


Drive II

by frick



Series: Drive [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Light Bondage, Light Knifeplay, M/M, Magic, Soul Sex, Weird roleplay, dear lord save me from these pits of degeneracy, please help me, rainbow cum, tongue stuff., wew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:38:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5803000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frick/pseuds/frick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk and Asriel explore the joys of Skittles and licorice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drive II

Frisk stared at the TV with a look of contempt. Nothing on. Friday night, in town, and all he could bring himself to do was watch Comedy Central and drink until it was funny.

He glanced at his watch. Asriel said he'd be by around 10. The 9:52 PM on his digital display taunted him.

It had been a few weeks since their foray up north. Frisk had canceled all plans to practice magic with Asriel in his new body before they had to brainstorm how to fix it. It was entertaining, but Frisk wasn't so fond of the idea of being a monster after living with it for a few days. Felt floaty. Too unreal. 

He traced his fingers along one of the black tattoos going down his arm. He kept those. They were cute and gave him some semblance of confidence while trying spells in his normal body. He normally wore long sleeve shirts anyway, so no one had to know.

A few more minutes of sipping Maker's Mark and listening to racist diatribe blast through the TV and Frisk heard a knock on the door.

“Yo. Door's unlocked.”

The knob clacked around before a swift kick sent it flying. Frisk sent a pulse to prevent it from putting a hole in the adjacent wall.

“Howdy!” Asriel was carrying a multitude of things in his arms. Frisk could make out various bottles of fruity drinks, his robe he wore for business, and a couple of leather-bound books he normally carried around public to seem scholarly. “Lady loaded me up at the liquor store. Haven't shopped locally, before. Felt bad taking it but who can turn down Smirnoff Ice?”

Frisk put on a dumpy grin. “Anyone who doesn't enjoy paint thinner.”

“Guilty as charged! What have you been doing? Aside from drowning yourself in piss-water.”

Frisk leaned back into his couch. “Unwinding before another meeting. France in a few days.”

“Interesting.” Asriel had a tone that completely disagreed with the word. “So, I got booze just in case you want to get super freaky, but I think I can handle anything on your mind sober. Being blasted takes the fun out of it for me, anyway.”

Frisk snorted and popped his half empty bottle back on the coffee table. “You turn into a little scientist when you're drunk. It's hilarious.”

Asriel blushed hard enough to give his white irises a semblance of pink. He scratched his arm and flopped onto the couch with Frisk. “Yeah, well, we're in Ebott. I can't really do, uh, that thing without bringing attention to us.”

“Ah, nah, I want to relax this weekend. We can do some stuff fairly vanilla,” Frisk tried to put on the puppy eyelids. “Maybe you can do that Hyperdeath thing we talked about over the phone.

Asriel blinked. “You're serious.”

“Az. Please.”

The boss monster let out a furious sigh. “We could do anything in the world, bust a nut in the Oval Office, diddle each other in space, and you want me to wear a dress.”

Frisk threw his head back into the couch. “Battle robe.”

“You called it a dress after we fought.”

“I wasn't old enough to realize how hot it was.”

Asriel threw his hands into the air. “I opened up a can of worms when we started banging, didn't I?” Frisk stood up and gave him a hug, relaxing him slightly. He traced a finger down the small of Asriel's back, feeling him shiver.

“I'll give you a can with one really big worm if you put on the fucking dress.” Frisk blinked. “Battle robe. And you have to do that Hyperdeath stuff where you talk like a fuckin' dweeb.”

The room was silent for a few seconds. Frisk thought he may have pushed too far. “Az?”

He was lifted off of the ground by magic and flung into the couch. Asriel let out a demonic laugh. Frisk was already pitching a tent. “I suppose a god has to appease its servants from time to time.” Oh Jesus, this was hot. 

“And it's the least I could do for my best friend, Chara.”

What?

Frisk looked down. He was wearing a heavy green turtleneck with a solitary yellow stripe through it. His jeans were black.

Asriel threw his hands in the air again and shook his head. “I might as well get some enjoyment out of this as well, brother.”

“Wow, I didn't know you could get this in-”

Frisk was silenced by a foot in the face. The smell of burnt electronics filled his nostrils. “I may be indulging you, sicko, but I did not give you permission to speak.” Frisk felt two toes wiggling over the bridge of his nose as another pressure hit against his chub. He felt the tingle of magic as his pants were manipulated, his brief-covered package bulging out as soon as the zipper was undone.

Asriel started kneading it like dough. Frisk wrestled the foot off of his face and looked at Asriel indignantly. “We didn't set up our safe words yet.”

“The only safe word is 'worship', Chara! You aren't going to get out of your duties by crying uncle!” Frisk felt the strength sapping from his arm with a blue glow. Dammit. This is what he asked for. 

The 'Chara' thing was a bit much, though. He'd roll with it for now.

“As you say, brother. I am yours.” The words felt weird coming out of Frisk's mouth, like he didn't intend to say them. Asriel backed off, admiring him from a distance. He was levitating about three feet off of the ground and his horns were dangerously close to the ceiling fan. 

He snapped his fingers. Never a good sign.

Frisk felt himself pull up towards the ceiling, noticing his arms were chained together by void-like cuffs and a chain that blended into the spackle of the living room. He noticed his reflection in the living room window; curtains were open. He mustered what little magic he could to try to force them shut, but not after getting a healthy look at himself.

Chara, head to toe. Asriel showed him a picture once of their childhood. His hair was slightly lighter, skin fairer, a smile that he didn't even notice he was wearing, and an oversized sweater draping over his lanky frame. 

Asriel noticed his attempts to close the blinds and shoved them with heavy-handed magic. “I agree, Chara. This is a private session. Only I am allowed to view your worship.”

Frisk spun and noticed a long, metallic, purple sword brushing against the fabric of his turtleneck. He was sure Asriel wouldn't take this too far, but his heart beat in sympathy with thoughts of his own mortality.

“Uh… Worship?”

“Very good, Chara. You're learning” Asriel slid the sword downward with an agonizing slowness. Frisk watched as the fabric melted away in neon violet light, each strand of fabric burning with brilliance. Frisk's tattoos from their escapades a couple of weeks back had that all-too-familiar void-like blackness to them. “You know what I want, right, servant?”

“A kiss on the snootle?” Frisk couldn't help himself, despite the weapon inches from his chest.

“Wrong answer.”

The sword stabbed, directly into the heart tattooed on Frisk's sternum. Frisk felt no impact but winced all the same. He slowly brought his head back to the scene. The inky black of his tattoos licked at the blade, and a red glow began to permeate the abyss consuming Asriel's weapon.

His SOUL. Frisk's breathing accelerated. This went from kinky to spooky far faster than he would have liked. The sword sticking into his chest was sending signals to his mind that made adrenaline pump through his system.

As quickly as it entered, it left. Asriel made the sword sputter and spark, breaking into small bullets that embedded into the walls of the building before sputtering out. Frisk's SOUL bathed the room in a heavy red light. Frisk strained against his cuffs, trying to free his arms so he could put the heart back where it belonged.

As the heart moved nearer to Asriel, a sense of coldness overcame Frisk. The light engulfed the prince's face with a gruesome hue of red, accentuating his lustful sneer. The couple were speechless, Frisk staring in apprehension as the heart levitated next to the boss monster. 

Frisk couldn't tell if Asriel's silence was due to concentration or trying to give Frisk a sense of foreboding. Asriel broke the tension by quickly grabbing the SOUL out of the air and massaging it between his thumb and index finger.

Sensations wracked Frisk like a typhoon, his body pulsing with waves of pins and needles. All he could let out were dumb moans and whimpers. 

Asriel gave the heart a couple of emphatic squeezes, causing the chains to rattle in sympathy. Frisk's panting broke the ambiance. “Oh, now isn't that delicious? Funny how sensitive these things are when you're not bashing them with magic.” Asriel was using a singsong voice, hovering closer while flicking the SOUL between his hands. 

Frisk was getting a rhythmic pulse going on, his body echoing with vibrations as his being bounced from palm to palm.

“I wonder, Chara, what kind of things I could make you feel with this.” He buried the SOUL in his palm.

Frisk quaked. Every muscle in his body contracted, and a sick, pleasant tension filled his body. 

The chains dissipated. Frisk landed on his knees, arms still suspended over his head. Locked up. Asriel let go of the heart.

It was release. Frisk heaved and fell onto the floor, limp, and breathing heavily. It wasn't pain, but he felt exhausted. He tried to call his SOUL back, and it quivered in attempt, but Frisk could recognize that Asriel had hold of it magically.

“Feeling a little hot and heavy, Chara? I suppose I could revitalize you. Wouldn't be very fun if you were done so quickly.”

Frisk gave a half-hearted nod. He expectantly stared at his arms, hopeful for a green glow. After a few seconds he mustered the strength to look up at Asriel.

“Oh, I don't mean by magic. That would ruin the moment.”

Asriel's jaw lowered open with an unsettling slowness as he exposed his tongue. The smell of licorice overpowered the room, making Frisk's eyes water. He let out a guttural chuckle as he turned his white irises towards the ruby SOUL, and his tongue wrapped around it like a snake grabbing its prey.

Frisk's limbs gave out from under him. He started convulsing in pleasure on the floor, a dankness, not-quite feeling of moisture on every follicle of skin. His muscles contracted in waves like before but it had a smoothness to it, it felt organic, and the feeling reverberated through his body like a rock dropping into a pond.

His shaft strained against his underwear. Actual dampness began to join the sensations as precum slathered itself against Frisk's briefs. Frisk reached to relieve some tension and was met with the cuffs returning and pulling him upright. A slight breeze pointed out that Frisk's pants had fallen around his ankles.

“Now, now, Chara, you have to worship me before you visit your own temple.” The overpowering feeling left Frisk and he dangled from his cuffs as Asriel uncoiled his tongue from the SOUL. Frisk attempted to gasp for air but gagged on the heavy scent of licorice blowing through his body.

Frisk's head lolled and his eyes wearily gazed at his throbbing manhood. His excitement was the only thing keeping him conscious.

“Az… Please… Tired...”

“Oh, that just won't do, Chara. I've been treating you fairly, you can't nod off before you've given me proper worship.”

Asriel grabbed Frisk's head by the hair and pulled it up. The red sparkle from the SOUL danced across his black sclera like a comet. Frisk noticed the stench of licorice had increased tenfold, and Asriel's tongue was pitch black, ethereal saliva falling off of it and spattering on the hardwood floor with a hiss.

Frisk's SOUL raised up to head level with the human and monster, and Asriel started swinging his tongue across the bottom tip, sending shivers up and down Frisk's nervous system. A sickly sweet feeling started permeating his body, and Frisk was tossed into it like an ocean as Asriel gave the heart another lurid lick.

Asriel spent the next few minutes doing this, trying to get to the tootsie center of Frisk's determination, before he noticed that the human wasn't responding. His cock still twitched in response to the boss monster's prodding, but Frisk's head sagged and eyes slightly more closed than usual. 

The prince landed on the floor with a thud and severed the magic holding Frisk up, catching the human before he landed in a puddle of confectionery perversion.

“Uhh… Frisk? You still there?”

Snoring echoed through the room.

Asriel nervously pushed the SOUL back into Frisk's chest and started healing him, after wiping excess magic drool off of it. Okay. The SOUL thing might have been a bit over the top. Asriel was sure it wouldn't have any lasting effects but seeing Frisk taken out so suddenly was a bit alarming.

Another burst of green magic and the human's eyelids twitched.

“H-howdy! Got a little carried away there, I guess,” Asriel anxiously scratched the back of his head while Frisk got his bearings back. “Maybe we should have actually done safe words. Heheh.”

Frisk did a couple of test clenches with his hands. He then pounced on Asriel and pulled him back onto his feet. 

“That was fucking -hot-.”

“Are you sure? You kind of 'fell asleep' in the middle of it.”

Frisk absentmindedly poked the tattoo on his chest. “I know you,” he muttered, giving a genuine smile, which quickly turned wicked. “You wouldn't hurt your best friend, would you, Asriel?”

“Uhh… you just passed out with a massive boner.”

“Yes. And I have pressure that needs alleviated. Surely a god can do that?”

Asriel sighed in frustration. “You're right, of course. A follower just suffered a traumatic experience. It's my duty as a god to… nurse you back to health? Yes.” Frisk couldn't help but put on another stupid grin. “But… every worshiper needs a safe word. Just in case a god gets too carried away.”

“Partner.”

Asriel gulped. “Very well.” A lewd sneer blanketed his face and he snapped his fingers again. Frisk was hoisted back up into the air by bonds, his rod twitching in sync with his breathing. Asriel shot little sparks across his body as he stroked the human's chin. The molten black tongue sent a sweet stench that threatened to make Frisk gag in the monster's face. “You decide how this worship continues, Chara.”

Frisk shifted, trying to angle his nose away from the pungency clinging to his head. He stuck out his tongue and rolled it around between his teeth.

“Ah. Yes, a favorite. Good choice.”

Asriel forcefully grabbed Frisk by the back of his head and planted his snout against Frisk's lips. The tongue came roiling out like a river, coating every centimeter of Frisk's esophagus in heavy sweet saliva. Frisk sputtered for air through the sick sensations, the overpowering aroma of licorice giving him a light headache. Whatever Asriel had done to his tongue, the only thing Frisk could envision going on inside of him was a wet noodle slapping paint across every organ.

Asriel pulled away and wiped the concoction away from his chin as Frisk hacked up the hissing liquid over his robe and dotted the floor. At closer inspection he could see that purple was waving through the puddle Asriel had made earlier. The thought of that mess being inside of him sent tingles of shame and pleasure through his brain.

A wayward thought contemplated whether or not the gooey mess on the floor would stain the hardwood. His mind was cleared by a fresh wave of adrenaline as he noticed Asriel drawing his SOUL back out with a clawed finger. 

He looked at Asriel, the light giving him a menacing visage once again. He had a questioning eyebrow raised, and Frisk gave a hesitant nod. Asriel let out a hearty chuckle. “I don't know why monsters use magic against SOULs, when you can break a human with a light-” Asriel gripped the heart with a fist. “Squeeze. Much easier when you're catatonic from sensation.”

Frisk lightly swung from the chains, momentum gained from his own convulsing. His pants had fallen off, soaking up the mess on the floor, and his briefs were around his ankles. Precum was joining the chorus of filth defiling the wood. 

“But, I think it's time that I get some worship, Chara. You're not exactly in the state to do it, yourself, so I guess this will have to do.” Asriel gave another squeeze on the SOUL for emphasis. Frisk cried out. A sick slopping sound hit the floor.

Frisk brought his head up to notice Asriel lowering the heart near his curiously large bulge in his robes, and the smell of his musk invaded Frisk's nostrils, drowning out the licorice taint and replacing it with a heady air freshener. He resisted the urge to draw it in with a heavy breath. Can't give Asriel too much pleasure in this. 

As quickly as the smell appeared, it vanished, licorice filling the void. Asriel cupped the SOUL behind him and was fiddling with his robes. Realization flashed across Frisk's face and he tried to struggle out a rebuttal before another wave of convulsion-inducing pleasure wracked his body. 

At least he doesn't eat human food. Frisk clung to the stench of licorice like a floatation device. The muscle contractions stopped their overload of Frisk's senses, which meant he was getting used to it or Asriel was being gentler. He was hoping for the latter. 

Frisk felt pressure on the sides of his chest as Asriel nonchalantly tore the back end of his robe open and popped Frisk's SOUL in like he was feeding a quarter into a vending machine. A familiar yet unique moistness drenched his body and he shifted uncomfortably in his bonds while Asriel started to let out some grunts. 

Asriel hit something that put himself into a state not unlike Frisk's, which burned all concentration he had on the bondage spell that was holding Frisk aloft. Gravity sent him into the mixture of lewd fluids with a pulpy smack. He tried to shake off the blanket of vibrations covering his body and crawled towards Asriel, pulling a knife he didn't know he had out of the side of his defiled jeans and ripping open the front end of Asriel's robe. The knife clanged against the floor.

Musk overpowered his senses again. The prince's staff was already coated in precum, and Frisk brought himself up enough to stroke it while also taking care of himself. Asriel was completely lost in whatever he was doing with Frisk's SOUL.

He pushed out thoughts of his spirit being used as a kinky sex toy and pushed his head against Asriel's chest while pumping both of them viciously, Asriel giving telltale quivers as Frisk felt climax building. 

Through all of Asriel's lewd bleating, he was still lucid enough to force Frisk back down on his knees, mouth-level with his shaft. 

“Ooh, Chara, I can feel your soul wriggling...” Frisk scrunched his eyelids in disgust at the line, and Asriel took the moment of lowered guard to unleash a torrent of rainbow spunk on Frisk's face. He moved to wipe it off when an invisible force stopped his arm. “No, Chara. Consume. The ultimate form of worship.”

'Partner' sat on the edge of Frisk's tongue before he begrudgingly accepted, and used his tongue as a windshield wiper. It tasted… fruity. The flavor bounced around in Frisk's head before he recognized it.

Skittles. Asriel always wanted the fruity candy when they went trick-or-treating as kids. Of course this was a fetish.

Thankful that it wasn't Lemon Heads or something worse. Frisk cleared the places his tongue couldn't reach and wiped them on the remains of Asriel's robe before pumping to finish himself off. 

Another barrier. Frisk sighed in frustration. Asriel squatted down, his robe magically repaired, marred only by a technicolor blotch near his groin. He licked a spot above Frisk's eyebrow, looked up at the ceiling contemplatively, and sneered. “Bit too sweet. Anyway, Chara, I feel like we should wrap this up.”

Frisk appeared to be ignoring him, eyes locked on the stain in his robe as he struggled to wrestle his rod.

“Something wrong?”

“Rainbow. Really?”

Asriel gave him a shit-eating grin and winked. “Don't question your god, Chara. Do you want me to relieve that tension or not?”

“Where did my SOUL go?”

Asriel flexed his ass and Frisk shuddered in sympathy. “Still in there.” He lowered his head down to Frisk's manhood and took a deep huff before letting his blackened tongue flop out and engulf his member. 

Frisk let out a tense breath as his groin was washed in the feeling of room temperature jello pulsating around it. This was definitely the weirdest thing Asriel has done with his tongue yet, and that was counting the suffocating thing he was fond of.

Licorice pounded his nostrils. Frisk wasn't sure if he could go near the candy aisle of a supermarket any more without getting horny. He bucked his legs as he felt a rising pressure in his groin, and tried to signal Asriel to back off. Asriel kept going and Frisk couldn't hold back, releasing into the black void that had consumed his crotch.

Asriel pulled back and moved his tongue around his mouth, seemingly savoring Frisk's load before giving a sickening gulp. “Now that is plain.”

“I tried to stop you.”

“Where's the fun in that?”

Frisk shifted uncomfortably, suddenly realizing he was in the stew of otherworldly fluids Asriel conjured into the room during their depraved acts.

“Shower?”

“Shower.”

**

The next few hours were spent agonizingly cleansing Frisk's SOUL with a variety of soaps and cleaning agents before putting it back in his body. Asriel didn't understand why, but it was best not to question human traditions. 

He also wasn't privy to what a 'security deposit' was or why Frisk would lose it if they couldn't get the purple stain out of the hardwood. After some experimentation, Asriel managed to clear it out with some magic.

Between the escapades a few weeks ago and tonight, Frisk was starting to worry if there would be any bad side effects of having this amount of weird kinky magic dumped into him regularly. He snapped out of it when Asriel started murmuring while walking out of the bedroom.

“Borrowed an outfit. Don't know what I did with mine after I changed.” Frisk had to hold back a laugh. Belly fluff was poking out of his shirt, and his thighs threatened to burst out of the skinny jeans Frisk kept around. They also ended about 3 inches short of his ankles.

“Couldn't you just conjure up new clothes?”

“What, and miss this reaction?” Asriel spun and Frisk cracked at the sight of his tail bulging against denim.

Asriel shamelessly strutted out the door, and had to keep himself from laughing with Frisk when he heard the sound of the seams of his pants cracking.

“You're heading to France for a thing next week, right?”

Frisk nodded. “Dad had something set up. Flight leaves on… Sunday, if I recall correctly.”

“Do something then?”

“I'd love to.”

The door shut.


End file.
